Green Eyes Questioning
by Diary
Summary: Warning: Contains semi-explicit sexual content. In which Draco uses legilimency on a captive Luna and learns more about Neville Longbottom's sex life and her sexual desires than he ever wanted to know. Complete. Edited slightly.


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

* * *

When he'd started using legilimency on Luna Lovegood, Draco had prepared himself for many things.

Unfortunately, he hadn't prepared himself for an explicit view of Neville Longbottom's sex life. He also hadn't prepared himself for Lovegood's fantasies of her and Longbottom.

Forcing himself to not break contact and run screaming from the room, Draco keeps pushing, concentrating on ordering her mind to tell him about Dumbledore's Army.

_Everything is blurry, including the two figures, but her mind supplies the names: Hannah Abbott and Neville Longbottom. _

_'I forgot Luna was in here,' Longbottom said, sounding miserable as he looked over, obviously unaware Lovegood's eyes were partly opened. 'Hannah, we can't. If we leave, Ginny'll know something's up.' _

_'Sh,' Abbott said, sitting down on a bed. He notes it wasn't there before. Room of Requirement, then, a fact he already knows. He'll focus on anything, though, to keep himself sane. 'She's a sound sleeper, and we can be quiet.' _

_A curtain appeared around Lovegood's bed, and he wonders why Longbottom didn't just create a room within the room and make it soundproof. It'd've saved Draco this awful memory. _

_Quietly, Lovegood crawled out of bed, walked over to the curtain, and peered through a small opening. _

_Down on his knees, Longbottom had his face in between Abbott's legs, her hands in his hair._

_There were general noises of pleasure, and soon enough, Abbott was coming. He didn't particularly need to see __**that**__, either._

_Abbott started to reach for him, but Longbottom caught her hand. 'Bet I can make you come again,' he said, one hand disappearing between her still-opened legs. _

_Giggling, she nodded. 'First, though, we better check on Luna.' _

_Lovegood was back in bed, eyes closed, by the time they peered in._

Grimacing, Draco looks at her disgust. "If you fancy him so much, why are you airing his personal life to death eaters? It's obvious he's mad for Abbott, and if you think we won't use that, you're even more insane than everyone thinks."

"They protect the more important memories and keep me sane," she answers, simply.

Some part of him has to admit that's fair enough.

* * *

The fantasies are worse than the memories.

For one thing, there are a lot of bizarre creatures and plants hanging around in them, as well as bright colours and intricately drawn symbols in odd places; for another, the Longbottom in her mental escapades is much for dominant than Draco's ever seen him. Some part of him is curious if Longbottom had become extroverted and demanding during the year or if it's simply her idealised version of him.

Nevertheless, he'd appreciate not having the image of her stretched out over the arm of a couch, Longbottom taking her from behind. Or the image of her over Longbottom's lap, skirt and pants off, a red bottom on prominent display. He especially would very much like to forget the image of her tied down on her stomach, completely naked, while being tortured with a feather to her left foot.

"What is it with you and being facedown and bent over," he inquires, crossly.

So far, the only potentially useful information he's managed to gleam from her mind is that Padma Patil is a co-leader with Longbottom and the Weaslette and that Seamus Finnegan is self-destructive bordering on suicidal. Now, not much can be done with such information. Parvati's still attending classes, but Padma and Finnegan are both hiding out in the room. He suspects Finnegan occasionally sneaks out, but he doesn't have anything concrete behind that belief.

"It's a vulnerable position," she answers.

"And you like being vulnerable," he says, not sure if he should be incredulous or resigned. "Is that why you never did anything about people nicking your stuff?"

"I like feeling trust," she answers, blinking once. "People can be unkind. Some people, however, will never purposely hurt you or break your trust, no matter how easy you make it for them to do so."

"And what happens when they do? In the end, people always do."

"I forgive them or move on and look for someone else," she answers. "Sometimes, trust can be rebuilt. Even when it can't, I think I'd rather live in a world where I'm hurt rather than a world with no hope."

"That doesn't make any sense, Loony."

"My mum's dead, you know," she says, staring at him. "She sent letters to Dad, and he wrote back. Her friends told her not to meet him alone; he could have been a death eater or friend of demons, they said. I asked her why she didn't listen, and she told me, 'The moment you stop giving trust is the moment you acknowledge you have no you can trust.' I see what she means."

Steeling himself, he quickly dives into her mind, hoping she's significantly off-guard enough not to put up her usual defences.

"_Hannah," Longbottom groaned, hands in Abbott's hair as she kneels on the floor, her mouth around him. _

_Of all the things he really, really, really didn't want to see, this just made it to the top of the list. _

_Thankfully, it wasn't not long before Longbottom was pulling her away, coming on some nearby tiles. _

_The memory starts to slip away, but he realises something and concentrates on keeping himself in it. Lovegood is nowhere to be seen. Abbott and Longbottom are in a toilet room with no windows, the door firmly shut. There's no pretending-to-be-asleep Lovegood, and the shower curtain is pulled open._

Breaking away, he says, "All the other times, they were accidents. Did you turn full-on voyeur?" It must have been an invisibility potion (Potter still has the cloak) or her somehow manipulating the room to hide her.

Neither is particularly helpful information; Lovegood being able to make a complex potion isn't surprising, and the room seems to have a fondness towards Longbottom. Longbottom might not want to bend Lovegood over (although, maybe he would; even Lovegood doesn't seem to know how serious the relationship between Abbott and Longbottom is, what their dynamic beyond sex is), but she's one of his true companions. Of course, it'd help her and the others learn how to utilise it properly, unlike him, who, he always sensed, disliked and resented his presence.

She starts to answer, but the goblin's screams interrupt.

* * *

The worst fantasies aren't the ones involving her and Longbottom having sex.

No, the worst are the ones where she and Longbottom are hopelessly in love. It's so pathetic he comes close to literally gagging a few times.

She carries his books around, and he plants her bizarre plants. They hold hands and eat together. They talk, although she's good at blocking most of the things she imagines them talking about. Sometimes, she'll be naked, the scars inflicted by dear Auntie Bellatrix visible, and Longbottom will kiss them, fingers carefully touching them, as he whispers about how, _it's okay; she took things from me, too, but we both survived, she didn't win, I love you_.

"Where'd you get so good at occlumency," he inquires, tiredly, leaning against the wall.

"The same way you did."

"Bellatrix taught me."

"No," she says, serenely, "she didn't. Nor did Headmaster Snape. You're very good at compartmentalisation; so am I. Most people who have mastered compartmentalisation can easily use occlumency. Would you die for Harry?"

Startled, he looks at her. "In case you haven't noticed, Loony, I'm trying my best to find some way to find him for the Dark Lord. So that he can be killed."

Ignoring that, she says, "It wouldn't mean much for me to say I'd die for Neville; I'd die for any of them, my friends, my dad, the innocents at Hogwarts. Who would you die for, Draco?"

My parents, Snape, are the automatic answers that spring to mind. "No one," he answers. "Especially not Potter."

"Then, don't be scared," she says, vaguely. "You can feel the change coming, too. So can your father. But if you already know what you're going to say, all you have to do is say it."

"Know something I don't, Lovegood?"

"Something always has to be said," she answers. "War is never quiet; it doesn't become war until people have the courage or stupidity to speak."

"Is your cryptic, vaguely platitude-riddled way of speaking an act, or do you literally just say whatever comes to your oddball mind?"

"What I say isn't cryptic to me," she answers. "I try to word it in such a way that others can understand, but they're usually too uncomfortable to try to meet me in the middle."

Again, he finds himself thinking, Fair enough.

* * *

_All you have to do is say it_.

"Draco, is it him?"

Of course, it's Potter. Disfigured face, body swollen, and green, green eyes, the first thing he ever noticed about the little boy in the robe shop. The shade belongs only to Harry Potter and a dead redheaded woman in photographs.

If he says yes, the dark lord wins, his family and Snape are safe, and Potter is dead.

_All you have to do is say it._

As Lovegood acknowledged, it's easier for her; she'd die for Longbottom, her dad, and more-or-less anyone fighting against the dark lord or targeted by him.

If he says no, his parents and Snape could die. He could die. Potter could still end up dead.

_All you have to do is say it_.

"I-I c-can't be s-sure."

He supposes some part of him always knew what he'd say, but unlike Luna Lovegood, knowing only made him more terrified.

Potter looks at him, green eyes questioning, and he quickly looks away.

* * *

"It's alright," Longbottom assures the goblin.

Someone who hadn't taken kindly to Augusta Longbottom's treatment of Dawlish had planted hundreds of long-lasting dungbombs in the Longbottom house; a goblin friend of Mrs Longbottom's is letting them kip over until someone can do something about the smell.

Nodding, the goblin gives Draco a wary look before disappearing back into the cave.

"Where's your girlfriend?"

"Seeing as how it's Sunday morning, I imagine she's at home with her dad, probably having breakfast," Longbottom answers, frowning. "What do you want with Hannah?"

"I was talking about Loony Lovegood." Xenophilius Lovegood is still in Azkaban, and his daughter is stopping at the goblin's cave, too.

"Don't call her that," Longbottom orders, sounding more irritated than angry. "She's still asleep, and I don't see how you have any business with her, Malfoy."

"Right," Draco says, withdrawing the vial of memories. Tossing it, he says, as Longbottom automatically catches it, "Piece of advice: She's good at seeing with her eyes more than half-closed."

Apparently not caring what Draco means by that, Neville asks, "What's this, then?"

"Memories," Draco answers. "Do what you want with them, but I think you'll be interested in seeing them. Sorry if they muck up things with Abbott."

"Why would-"

Draco apparates away before Longbottom can finish.


End file.
